


Time

by julliangray



Category: The A-Team (TV)
Genre: Emotional Hurt, Heavy Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-20
Updated: 2020-01-20
Packaged: 2021-02-24 23:28:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22326211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/julliangray/pseuds/julliangray
Summary: Takes place during and after 'Without Reservations'
Relationships: Templeton "Faceman" Peck/John "Hannibal" Smith
Comments: 5
Kudos: 21





	Time

"Anthem of the Angels"  
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QB3pxBDZvf4ï¿½ï¿½

White walls surround us  
No light will touch your face again  
Rain taps the window  
As we sleep among the dead  
Days go on forever  
But I have not left your side  
We can chase the dark together  
If you go then so will I

There is nothing left of you  
I can see it in your eyes  
Sing the anthem of the angels  
And say the last goodbye

Cold light above us  
Hope fills the heart  
And fades away  
Skin white as winter  
As the sky returns to grey

Days go on forever  
But I have not left your side  
We can chase the dark together  
If you go then so will I

There is nothing left of you  
I can see it in your eyes  
Sing the anthem of the angels  
And say the last goodbye

I keep holding onto you  
But I can't bring you back to life  
Sing the anthem of the angels  
Then say the last goodbye  
You're dead alive, You're dead alive, Your dead alive, Your dead alive  
There is nothing left of you  
I can see it in your eyes  
Sing the anthem of the angels  
And say the last goodbye  
I keep holding onto you  
But I can't bring you back to life  
Sing the anthem of the angels  
And say the last goodbye

Seconds....

'Hold it together, Smith; last thing the kid needs to see is you losing it.' Hannibal thinks as looks down at Face, though he is pretty sure that at this point, Face is beyond even realizing he is there. As Face draws in another ragged breath, he can't help but wonder how much fight is left in his boy. He's seen the younger man go through so much in his life, seen him fight back against so many bad odds, but this...

"Damn it; Face don't you quit on me." He half orders and half begs his lover. Even though it seems to take forever, BA is back within a matter of minutes with the van. What terrifies both men is when they pick Face up, he doesn't make a sound other than the terrible rasping as he tries to breathe.

Minutes....

"Come on; kid breathe." Hannibal tries to encourage, but he knows that Face isn't hearing a word he is saying. If Face could hear him, he wouldn't be scaring the hell out of him by taking such shallow breaths where he seems to stop every few seconds.

"Be there in two minutes, man."

"You hear that kid two minutes, you've got to...." And as he starts to speak the last words, Hannibal’s voice catches in his throat when he realizes that Face doesn't have two minutes left as the ragged breath that has left his throat indeed was his last. Leaning forward, he places his own shaking fingers on the side of his lover's throat hand when he feels nothing; he lowers his head to the bloody chest. When he hears no heartbeat his own stops for the briefest of moments, in that one moment, another part of his brain kicks into action, and he automatically starts chest compressions before he gives Face three quick breaths, filling the younger man's lungs.

Hours…

They are all sitting in the waiting room now, watching as the clock's hands make a slow and agonizing sweep around. As Hannibal looks down at his blood-covered hands, he isn't sure what is worse, having to wait or not knowing what is going on. He knows that it is going to take time to dig the bullet out and to repair any damage that it has done. In the back of his mind, he knows that if the surgeon comes out too soon, it will mean the worst, but it doesn't make it any easier. Losing anyone on his team would be hard, but dear God, he can't lose his boy.

Days…

24

So many tubes, wire, and machines. Machines breathing for him, forcing his lungs to expand and contract keeping him alive. Hannibal closes his eyes as he feels the guilt building in his gut. He and Face had promised each other a long time ago that if either were ever seriously injured, they wouldn't hook the other up to a bunch of machines to keep him alive.

"I'm sorry, kid," Hannibal leaned forward in his chair so he could take Face's hand in his own. "I can't do it; I can't let you go, not when there is a chance." He remembered the doctors telling him that if Face could make it through the next 24 hours, there was a possibility he could pull through, but dear God, how much fight did his boy have left in him?

48

"Any change?" BA watches as a pair of bloodshot eyes turn to look at him, and the sergeant can't help but wonder if Hannibal has had a minute's sleep in the last 48 hours.

"None," is all Hannibal can say before he turns back to look at Face, his fingers moving over the long pale ones on the bed.

"You want me to sit with him for a while so you can grab something to eat, maybe a few hours' sleep?" BA knows the answer before he even asks the question, but he has to ask.  
"No," He's told the doctors and the nurses the same thing every time they ask. There is nothing or no one that is going to make him leave his boy’s side.

72

Rise and fall, rise and fall, rise and fall, it's become a steady mantra for Hannibal. As long as Face's chest continues to rise and fall, there is a chance, hope, he can plan as long as Face continues to breathe. 

End


End file.
